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DUDLEY STAMP 

LOST IN THE 

ROCKY MOUNTAINS 




A TRUE STORY 


By C. W. STAMP 




1132 WASHINGTON BOULEVARD 
CHICAGO, ILL. 



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Copyright, 1913 

BY 

CHRISTOPHER W. STAMP 


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All Rights Reserved 


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The W. H. Kistler Press 


Denver, Colo. 


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TO MY 

devoted Tvife, Mrs. Blanche E. Stamp, 
to whom I am profoundly) indebted for 
whatever success I map have had in mp 
labors for the betterment of humanity, 
and whose timely and valuable sugges- 
tions have greatly assisted me in writing 
this narrative; and whose sufferings dur- 
ing the dark rind dreadful night, while 
our beautiful bab^ bo^, only three years 
and six months old, was Wandering on 
the mountains, were inexpressible, this 
book is affectionately dedicated. 

— The Author. 






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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“Dudley rushes at the coyote and strikes it 

with his hat” Frontispiece 

“Ha! He thinks I’m coming back, but I’ll fool him 

this time’’ 27 

“I want my mamma! I want my mamma!’’ 39 

“I went into that barn and counted the horses. There 

are four in there’’ 5 1 1/ 

“I fell into that cellar and bleeded my nose’’ 63 \/ 

“She hears the same plaintive voice. It is fairther away 
now, and the sounds are faintly heard: ‘I want 
my mamma!’ ’’ 75 ^ 

“Come here, little girl.’’ “I’m not a girl. I’m a boy!’’ 85 t/ 

“He is, at last, on his way home’’ 1 08 v 

“Mamma, have you had your supper?’’ 115''/ 

14V 


“Good-bye papa, good-bye mamma, good-bye Maudie’’ 


§ § 

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^ Illustrations by g 

f WARD MILLER f 

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CONTENTS 


PART I. 

PAGE 

Chapter I — The First and Second Years 19 

Chapter II — Dudley’s Life in Denver 31 

Chapter III — The Camp Meeting 47 

Chapter IV — Lost 57 

Chapter V — A Night’s Tramp 79 

Chapter VI — The Rescue 93 

PART II. 

Chapter I — Bright School Days 123 

Chapter II — Dudley’s New Home 131 

Chapter III — Dudley’s Illness 139 









PREFACE 


The object of this narrative is to give a true and 
detailed account of the sad and thrilling experiences 
and scenes of our own beautiful baby boy who was 
lost in the Rocky Mountains. The book has been 
prepared with special reference to the children and 
young people, although we trust those of mature age 
will find the perusal of its pages helpful as well as 
interesting. 

TTie reader may feel assured that, while he is 
following, in the story, the rugged, mountain path 
over which Dudley’s weary feet stumbled along on 
his perilous journey, he is, at the same time, following 
the dauntless spirit of the heroic little fellow, whose 
determination to conquer was equal to his valor. 

The drawings which represent the different scenes 
are as true to nature as the artist could reproduce 


them, and the pictures of Dudley were drawn from 
a photograph that was taken about the time he was 
lost. TTie artist has, by request, thrown the strong, 
but mild character into the features of the child in 
every sketch. 

As the boy was lost in the night, all the illustra- 
tions, except one, are of necessity, night scenes; and 
thus they reflect the dreariness of the dark and 
gloomy way of the little wanderer. In this we have 
endeavored to keep as close to the facts as possible, 
as this is a true story. 

The Author. 







DUDLEY STAMP 

LOST IN THE 


ROCKY MOUNTAINS 











CHAPTER I. 

THE FIRST AND SECOND 
YEARS 


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PART I. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE FIRST AND SECOND YEARS. 


beautiful boy was bom to us, and came 
as a precious gift of heaven. Yea, the 
charm of the baby’s presence in every 
home is as the sun’s dazzling splendor in 
the dawn of day. For the moment, tem- 
poral interests, pleasure and prosperity, are forgotten 
when the eyes of the first-born son open upon the 
faces of loving parents, and they too, meet that 
strange, dependent but satisfied gaze. Sweet mu- 
tual love bounds into being, and a sense of ability to 
protect comes into the life of the parent, and a cor- 
responding sense of trust to the heart of the child. 
O glorious mom of the advent of the little stranger. 

When this new joy is realized, all other joy fades 
away like the dew. TTi rough the changing events 
of time, the home may be saddened by the shadows 



19 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


of affliction, or distressed by the gloomy prospects of 
financial disaster; through disappointment the attrac- 
tions of society may lose their interest ; but that win- 
some one ever holds and comforts the unified hearts, 
and forms a permanent foundation for future hopes. 

The sunshine of these hopes came into our lives 
when Dudley, the subject of this narrative, was lent 
to us for a time. It was as the unfolding of a new 
day. Our hearts had always been happy and our 
home was rich with hallowed peace, and nothing 
seemed to be lacking to make that peace perpetual. 
But like those who have always lived within the 
limits of the narrow valley of their childhood, and 
who are afforded the great pleasure of a journey to 
another country, thus extending their vision of life, 
so the borders of our home and home interests were 
enlarged; and as the flowing stream passes onward 
through scenes of delight that are ever changing, we 
were conscious of love’s streams flowing onward 
through ever new and changing pastures. 

Our thoughts passed out from the confines of 
self, and planned for the possibilities of a noble. 


20 



dignified and useful life for the treasure placed in 
our care. While crossing the broad plains of the 
far west, the dim outlines of the distant mountains 
make their appearance and then the lofty peaks loom 
up beyond. 

This scene invariably produces a feeling of great- 
ness; of enlargedness of vision and nobler ideas. 
TTie tether is parted and new and fresh feeding 
grounds are found. Thus the responsibilities of this 
new charge began to be realized and the prospects 
of another life rose up in the distance with never 
ending charms. The world was larger. Self was 
smaller. Clustering around our darling babe were 
the hopes, aspirations and joys of another existence. 
We have thought of the mother of Moses, when she 
saw for the first, her lovely child, and when it was 
revealed to her that he was a “proper child.” Dud- 
ley was a proper child. Broad browed, sparkling 
eyes, ruddy countenance and golden curls marked 
him superior. His beauty was known throughout 
the neighborhood, and though an infant, he became 
the object of interest and the talk of the community. 


2 ] 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


The days passed swiftly by, and like all other 
mothers, his mother was anxiously awaiting the glad- 
some day when she might be allowed to take him to 
the house of the Lord. That consecrated place was 
to be the first where the eyes of the public should be 
permitted to look upon the face of the one who had 
brought treasures of happiness to us. That day 
came. It was the Holy Sabbath day. At the close 
of the service, the people gathered around the mother, 
and exclaimed: “What a beautiful child!** As 
his big, dark eyes opened upon the walls of the sanc- 
tuary, he seemed to be sensible of the sacredness of 
the hour. 

From that day Dudley was the idol of every- 
one. His growth was phenomenal. Perfect health 
added to his charms, and these charms grew with his 
growth. 

Being a minister, we were transferred to the city 
of Philadelphia, by the request of the bishop, when 
Dudley was but a year old. Our surroundings were 
different ; but our baby was as popular here as he was 
in his western home. New acquaintances were 


22 


^ ^ ^ True Story 


iSij 


added to the number of loving admirers. Young 
ladies considered it a rare pleasure to be permitted 
to take him to the parks, and for short boat rides on 
the river for an outing. His appreciation was ex- 
pressed by his smiles and tokens of happiness, and 
he continued in favor with the people. Such was 
the admiration of these friends that they had his 
picture taken and enlarged. 

When he was two years old, the doctors ordered 
a change of climate for the mother as the bad air 
and impure water of the great city were undermining 
her health. The dry climate of Colorado was rec- 
ommended, and accordingly the family began to 
make preparations for the journey to the city of Den- 
ver, which was to be their future home. 

The distance between Philadelphia and Denver 
is so great that our eastern friends considered the trip 
a hard and tiresome one, and that it would be very 
taxing on our strength. It would have been weari- 
some, indeed, but for the comfort that constantly 
came to us from the expressions of admiration and 
delight for our boy by the passengers of the different 


23 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


trains along the way. There was something about 
the child that attracted the travelers. Everybody 
wanted to hold him. First one and then another 
took him and seemed reluctant to give him up; all 
wanting him to be with them to the end of their 
journey. 

A stop was made on the way in order that we 
might pay a visit to the grandparents. It would be 
useless to try to describe the scene caused by the 
pleasure that happy meeting brought to those loving 
hearts. Dudley had been away from them for a 
year and the reunion was an evidence of the great 
affection that existed between them. 

A few weeks at the old homestead, and the jour- 
ney is resumed. Across the broad plains we sped, 
continually making the distance greater between us 
and former associations. While old friends were not 
to be forgotten, we were to make new ones. 

Finally the destination was reached. We found 
ourselves among strangers and in a strange land. 
Not far away rose the lofty ranges of the Rocky 
Mountains. Peak above peak they lifted their 


24 


^ ^ True Story 


snowy heads towards the blue sky; the “Italian sky 
of America.” The air was bracing and always 
clear and sunshiny. This continuous sunshine soon 
brought back the glow of health to the mother’s face, 
and all uneasiness as to a permanent break-down 
vanished. 



25 





“Ha! 


He thinks I’m coming back, but I’ll fool him this time.’’ 







I Jk! 


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I . CHAPTER II. 

§ 

I DUDLEY’S 

I LIFE IN DENVER 

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CHAPTER II. 


Dudley’s life in Denver. 


HE “Queen City** has many attractions 
for the visitor from the east. Coming 
directly from the low, damp atmosphere, 
one notices the change in the surround- 
ings with some astonishment. The rare- 
fied air impresses you in a remarkable manner, and 
seems to remind you of another world. Distances 
have the appearance of being shorter and everything 
for the time takes on a weird aspect. 

TTiere is an absence of the fine forests and the 
green fields of the lower altitudes, and a sense of 
barrenness and wildness prevails throughout the 
state of Colorado. The mountains are grand be- 
yond description, however, and this makes up for the 
lack of verdure. Denver is one of the most beauti- 
ful cities in the world. Its streets are broad, and 



31 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


they are lined with shade trees ; the houses are modem 
and the lawns are nicely kept. One feature of 
beauty is the little stream that runs along by the roots 
of the trees on each side of the street. This is a 
system of irrigation which is necessary in this country 
where it rarely ever rains. When the grass needs 
moisture, these streams are turned onto the lawns and 
the gardens are flooded. Thus the desert is made 
to blossom as the rose, and the parched ground be- 
comes a pool. 

Our little Dudley was robust and strong in the 
fine climate of this western country, and he developed 
with amazing rapidity. While mild and gentle in 
disposition, he knew no fear. Fear did not seem to 
be an element of his nature. He loved to play, and 
he sometimes indulged in the sport of teasing his baby 
sister; though he loved her, and cared for her with 
exceptional tenderness. Among other things given 
him to make his life a pleasure, was a palmetto tent. 
This tent was set up in the yard, and here he and his 
sister, who was then just beginning to walk, had many 
of their playthings, and here many happy hours were 
spent. 


32 


AT rue Story ^ ^ ^ 


Dudley always wanted a dog. As we lived in 
the city we decided that it was not the best thing, 
though we desired to do all we could to please him. 
Dudley, however, thought he would take the busi- 
ness into his own hands one day, and while playing 
in the front yard, a farmer came along with a load 
of hay. On that load of hay he had a dog that he 
evidently wanted to get rid of. Seeing our little 
boy, he said: “Hello, little man, don’t you want a 
dog?’’ This was enough. Now was the chance to 
surprise papa, and to become the owner of that which 
he so long had wanted. No sooner had the man 
spoken, than the answer was given: “Yes, sir, I 
do.’’ 

The dog having a rope around his neck, it was 
an easy matter to let him down from the load, and 
in a moment Dudley was leading his treasure back 
to his play-tent. It was soon tied to the tent pole, 
and the child waited anxiously for his father to re- 
turn that he might show him his great bargain. On 
his father’s return the proud owner shouted, “Oh 
papa, come and see my dog!’’ Hastening around 


33 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountain 


to the tent, there he found the dog, and Dudley was 
encouraged over his good fortune. 

However, the happiness arising from his new 
possession did not last long. The dog proved to be 
anything but a safe companion for the two children. 
One day it came running and barking toward them 
while they were playing at the far end of the yard, 
and acted mad and savage. It seemed to be deter- 
mined to bite the little girl. Dudley saw it coming 
and immediately jumped in between the infuriated 
beast and his sister, and began to beat the dog. By 
his brave efforts he kept it off till the father could 
get there and kill the animal. He had stood his 
ground like a general on the battle field, and showed 
the strength and fearlessness of his character. 

Another incident that brought out the business 
trend of his mind occurred about this time. He was 
ever bent on engaging in business and speculating in 
some way, though not always being particular as to 
the outcome. His father had bought a new bridle 
for the horse, paying two dollars and fifty cents for 
it, when a boy passed the house carrying two small 


34 



fish not over six inches in length. He had caught 
these fish in the Platte River and was on his way 
home with them, when Dudley bantered him for a 
trade. Holding up the new bridle, he said: “Here, 
I will trade you this bridle for those fish.” The lad 
took the little trader up at his offer ; handing the fish 
over, he took his pay. Running into the house, the 
young merchant cried out, “Look here, papa, see my 
fish. I traded my bridle for them.” It was rather 
expensive diet, but the child had the experience, and 
had transacted some business. 

A short time before the fish transaction took 
place, a young horse was purchased for the carriage. 
The horse was unbroken, but proved to be gentle and 
kind, though he was large and powerful. To please 
the boy, his father allowed him to call this horse his 
own, and they decided to name him Dick. Dick 
and his little master soon became fast friends and 
Dudley spent a good part of his time in the barn play- 
ing with his horse. Dick would permit him to climb 
up into the manger, then onto his back, or to get 
down and run about his feet. He always seemed to 


35 


Dudley Stamps Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


be careful not to step on him or to injure him in any 
way. This relieved the parents of all fears as to 
his safety while he was about the stable. 

One day the horse was tied to the yard fence. 
The family were in the house, as company had called, 
and Dudley was left to play with Dick. A while 
before this a strong, two-wheeled cart had been made 
for the little boy, and he took great pride in it. That 
he might be further pleased, his father had bought 
him a long rope, a piece of clothes line. He also 
had other pieces of rope of different lengths. With 
these he thought of a scheme of harnessing the colt 
to his cart and having a ride. Accordingly he 
climbed onto the fence and fastened one end of the 
rope to the halter, bringing the other end around to 
the cart. Then, in order to have two lines, he untied 
the long halter strap and brought that around on the 
other side for the other line. Next he had to hitch 
the colt to the cart. This was not so easily done. 
One of the short pieces of rope was found with which 
he thought to complete the harness. As Dick had 
no traces to his new harness, his master considered the 


36 


AT rue Story }<i} ^ 


quickest way was to tie the rope to the tongue of his 
cart and then to Dick’s tail. The horse had a long, 
bushy tail which came nearly to the ground. 

Dudley proceeded to make the knot. This was 
done all right, but on trying its holding qualities the 
little fellow found that it would not stick; but that 
it slipped off as often as he tied it on. TTiis failure 
caused the child no little uneasiness. What to do, 
was a question. However, he was not to be outdone 
by trifles, and this obstacle was to be overcome in 
some way. A new idea enters his young mind. 
Dick’s hind leg would hold the rope better. Could 
he fasten the rope here, it would doubtless hold fast. 
As was stated, the horse was very gentle and now 
made no resistance to the efforts of the would-be 
horse breaker. No sooner does this idea of hitching 
the cart to the animal’s leg enter the boy’s mind than 
it is put into practice. 

The rope was soon made secure, and thus the 
hitching up was complete. Now for the ride. But 
a good driver must have a whip, thought Dudley, 
especially in handling a young horse. Going to the 


37 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


carriage house, he took the long whip out of the 
carriage, and then gathered up the lines, made out of 
rope and leather, and climbed into the cart. The 
tongue of this wagon was about three feet long, and 
the rope that was used to fasten it to Dick’s leg 
was about the same length. This brought the 
driver nearly two yards from the horse’s feet; just 
about the right distance to receive the full force of his 
heels should he become frightened and begin to kick. 

Being well seated in the strong box, and getting 
the reins in proper place, Dudley brought that long 
whip down upon Dick’s back with a loud crack, 
which caused him to start with a bound. Away he 
went, trotting around the large yard. Every step 
lifted the cart nearly off the ground and the ride, 
though somewhat after the cow-boy style, was not 
altogether agreeable to our young horse trainer. 
Now, he began to think about getting out of the 
wagon. But that was not as easy as it had been 
to get into it. He was now going at a great rate of 
speed and there was but little time to devise a plan 
which would enable him to land on the ground with- 


38 





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tQj True Story iOj 


out some hard bumps. Then, again, the colt might 
take to kicking, which would be certain death. The 
next best thing he considered, was to get help. This 
was the right thing to do. It is always the proper 
thing to do in the time of need. Laying aside his 
proud feelings, he began to cry out for some one to 
stop the horse. They were not faint cries, but plead- 
ings that indicated his earnestness. Hearing his 
voice, his father rushed to the door in time to see him 
bumping and bounding around the yard, and in great 
danger of being seriously hurt. It was a scene of 
intense excitement. But in a moment the father was 
at the horse’s head. The mother, however, with true 
mother instinct, ran immediately to the cart and 
caught the child up out of danger. The horse was 
soon stopped and Dudley willingly left the breaking 
of young horses to more experienced horsemen. 

Living a few doors away, was a family who kept 
a very large mastiff. It was a savage and danger- 
ous dog that was never allowed to run at large. This 
dog stood higher than Dudley’s head, he was so very 
large. He was kept for a watch dog. No one 


41 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


except the members of the family was permitted to 
go near him for it was not safe. 

One day our little child went over to this house. 
Unknown to the people the dog had, in some way, 
broken his chain and was running around the yard. 
Dudley passed along through the yard and was met 
by the mastiff. About this time the lady of the 
house opened the door, and to her amazement and 
fear, saw the child standing in front of the beast, 
holding his great jaws tightly in his hands. The 
baby boy thought this was fine sport. But the lady 
knew the vicious nature of the mastiff and the danger 
in which the child was placed, and with screams she 
ran out and grabbed the little fellow, as it were, from 
the jaws of death. 

On another occasion when sickness was in the 
home, and his mother was unable to look after him 
as closely as usual, and as he was so active, he had 
been allowed to go to a neighbor who lived near by. 
On returning to the house, he said to his mother, 
“Mamma, I have had a ride on a cow’s horn.*’ 
“Dudley, what do you say>’’ was the question asked 




42 





A True Story 




by his mother. “Well, I did, and if you don’t be- 
lieve it, just look here,” showing a rent in his dress 
and a bruised arm. “The cow lifted me up twice 
mamma.” This awakened some interest, and not 
fully understanding the situation, the mother went 
over to the neighbor in order to learn the facts re- 
garding the circumstance. On making inquiry, the 
lady said : “ Y es, your little boy came over and the 
cow rushed at him and tossed him up in the air twice, 
and I had difficulty in saving him from being hooked 
to death. She would perhaps have destroyed his life 
if I had not come to the door at that moment.” 



43 















«& 

I CHAPTER III. 

§ 

§ 

I THE CAMP MEETING 

§ 

§ 

§ 

§ 


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CHAPTER III. 


THE CAMP MEETING. 


AMP meetings originated with the Cum- 
berland Presbyterians. They became 
so effective and resulted in such great 
good, other churches adopted them, and 
for many years have been held by differ- 
ent denominations. The people take canvas tents 
and supplies for a ten days’ meeting and go to some 
favorable place where good shade may be had, and 
there form a camp. Services are held several times 
a day. 

Our church was formative in this western country, 
and it was decided by the conference, to hold a camp 
meeting in the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains. 
This meeting was to be held in the month of June, 
and the location was a wild, rough country with high 
mountains and deep valleys; a place of great rocks 
and woods interspersed with raw prairie. 



47 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


The houses are far apart and the whole country 
bears the appearance of wildness. All the land 
lies open except the fields that are used for tillage, 
and cattle and horses roam at large. Wild beasts, 
including coyotes, grey wolves, mountain lions and 
bears, infest this region. The coyotes are large, 
powerful beasts, resembling the gray wolf of the 
north. They generally roam in the night in packs, 
and are rarely seen alone. They burrow under 
high bluffs and among the half covered rocks. In 
these secluded, out-of-the-way places, they rear their 
young. When very hungry, not having been suc- 
cessful in the nightly foraging expedition, they are 
sometimes seen in the day time. As several of them 
travel together, they are even more bold and ferocious 
than they would be when alone. 

TTie cry of this terrible animal has a mournful, 
sad sound that always produces a feeling of sorrow. 
As it is heard in the stillness of the night when all 
around is hushed in silence, there is a sense of weird- 
ness that makes one feel like fleeing to a place of 
safety. Sometimes this unnatural cry is so much 


48 


^ ^ ^ ^ True Story iCjj ciJ 


like the cry of a child in distress, a sense of horror 
passes through your entire being. There is no sound 
like it. It is simply indescribable. 

At this time the farmers were being annoyed in 
an unusual way by a large number of these marau- 
ders, carrying off their calves and killing their young 
cattle. As the roads through the country in Colo- 
rado are always in excellent condition, and as the 
open air of the Rocky Mountain region is dry and 
bracing, it was decided to make the trip to the camp 
in the carriage. To one coming from the crowded 
city of Philadelphia, to travel in this manner is a rare 
pleasure. The towering snow-caps on the one side 
and the broad, extended plains on the other, with 
hills and valleys, gullies and rocks, the journey is 
furnished with a constant change of interest. With 
this ever changing scenery and an easy surrey the 
way seemed too short. 

The road leads up a steep grade which leaves the 
city of Denver at an elevation of five thousand feet, 
and reaches a height of nearly nine thousand feet in 
the mountains. Thus the traveling was necessarily 
slow. The whole trip consumed two days. 


49 


Dudley Stampy Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


Dudley was delighted with this journey. He 
was getting away from the busy city. He was get- 
ting out into the great, open world where nature 
reflects even to the child the touches of the Creator. 
Life and beauty lend their inspiring influence every- 
where. But while there were huge and towering 
ranges, enormous rocks and vast plains showing the 
expanse of the world around him, the child was at- 
tracted more by the cunning little prairie dogs which 
he saw in large numbers along the way. These 
small animals live in colonies of hundreds, and some- 
times thousands. These colonies are called “prairie- 
dog towns.” 

Sometimes a large jack rabbit would bound out 
from under a bunch of tall grass or clump of sage- 
brush, and go leaping over the rocks and valleys, and 
a number of coyotes were occasionally seen skulking 
across the country. 

Finally the camp was reached. Some had ar- 
rived a day in advance of our party and were settled 
comfortably in the tented grove. Others were still 
preparing their temporary abode, and everything con- 


50 



“I went into that barn and counted the horses. There are four in there.” 






f 

I 


1 





\Q} ^ True Story isa iOj 


nected with this sojourn in the mountains by such a 
company of people created no little interest among 
the settlers. This primitive manner of divine wor- 
ship attracted large crowds to the encampment. 
Some came through curiosity of course, having a 
natural disposition to inquire into that which was new 
and strange to them. The majority, however, were 
drawn from higher and nobler interests ; from a sense 
of good received from the profound truths they heard 
from that improvised pulpit in the wilderness, and 
from a sense of the hallowed influences of heaven 
that pervaded the place in sanction of the consecrated 
effort to contribute to the development of better con- 
ditions. Elderly people who had been in the coun- 
try from its earliest history in connection with the 
settlement of the white man, and when the Indian 
watched with an unfriendly and envious eye the en- 
croachments of the stranger on his domains, attended 
the gathering with pleasant recollections of the child- 
hood days in the far away land of the east' when 
assemblies of this kind were common among them. 
The middle-aged, with their families and hired men, 
came with no less interest. 


53 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


The children were allowed to play around the 
grounds between the hours of service, and their joyful 
voices were heard in every direction through the 
woods surrounding the camp. During the first week 
our little son had made many acquaintances among 
these children. Being of a vigorous but agreeable 
disposition his company was welcomed by all. 
They regarded him with special interest and gave 
him unusual notice as he had so recently come to 
their western country from the great city of Phila- 
delphia. As he was dressed in kilt suits, and as he 
wore long golden curls which hung gracefully 
around his shoulders, he caused some comment 
among the older boys, and perhaps a slight tinge of 
jealousy was allowed to creep into the heart. 

Among the many children and young people in 
the encampment was a mischievous boy twelve years 
old. This lad was fond of playing tricks and teas- 
ing the smaller children. He liked Dudley though, 
and admired his manly ways. But as his nature 
was to get amusement out of everything, he could 
not refrain from working his childish pranks on him 
and of having some fun at his expense. 


54 




rsu 
§ 
& 
§ 

CHAPTER IV. I 

€* 
§ 


LOST 


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& 
§ 
§ 
§ 
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0 





CHAPTER IV. 


LOST. 


NE day, in the afternoon, a lady came to 
the tent of Dudley’s parents, bringing a 
portion of plum pudding, saying: “Mrs. 
Stamp, pardon me, but would you 
accept some of this plum pudding for 
your supper?” The token of friendship was re- 
ceived with gratitude especially as it was given as 
an expression of a loving heart. Dudley over- 
heard the conversation and said: “O mamma, I 
will help you get supper, and won’t we have a good 
supper?” 

At this time the quarterly conference was in 
session in the large tent. Taking Dudley by the 
hand, his mother walked with him to the tabernacle 
to hear the discussion of the different subjects before 
the conference. They took seats near the entrance. 



57 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


and the little fellow heard his playmates talking just 
outside the canvas walls of the tent as they were busy 
at play, and asked to be permitted to join them. As 
they were close by, the mother readily gave her con- 
sent. His prattle was soon heard mingling with the 
rest, and the moments passed quickly. Not long 
after he had gone out to play with the others, he 
came back with a troubled expression. Looking 
up into his mother’s face he said: “Mamma, is I 
a girl?’’ “No Dudley, you are not,’’ was the com- 
forting answer. He then ran away again to engage 
in the play with the children as before. But he did 
not stay long this time. Returning with a woe- 
begone look on his sweet face, he asked again the 
same question, “Mamma, is I a girl?’’ “Indeed, 
Dudley, you are not a girl, but malmma’s noble 
boy.’’ “Well, mamma, those boys out there have 
been calling me a girl.’’ Because of his long curls 
and fair countenance the boys thought to tease him 
by calling him a girl. They could have said nothing 
to him that would have displeased him more than 
this. 


58 


^ True Story i$3 iOj 


Being assured by the reply of his mother, he was 
soon among his little friends as joyful as though noth- 
ing had happened. While they were all talking 
and laughing together, his mother could easily dis- 
tinguish his voice from the others and there was no 
concern as to his whereabouts or his safety. 

On the pine trees of the Rocky Mountains there 
is to be found the natural gum that the children love 
to gather. As the people were engaged with the 
business of the conference in the tabernacle, the mis- 
chievous youth, mentioned in the preceding chapter, 
thought it would be a fine thing, and that it would 
be great sport, to take Dudley out into the woods 
and leave him there; to compel the baby boy from 
Philadelphia to find his way back to the camp the 
best he could. Accordingly he told the child about 
the nice gum out there, and what fun it would be to 
gather some. Dudley’s curiosity was aroused im- 
mediately. Away they went beyond the circle of 
tents out into the thick forest of stately pines. There 
being plenty of underbrush and huge rocks, it was 
not a difficult task to get the little boy where he might 


59 


Dudley Stamps Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


be confused as to directions, and where the camp 
could not be seen. While there the bad boy said: 
“Now. Dudley, you stay here and I will go back to 
the tent and get a tin cup to put the gum in.” 

Meantime Dudley’s mother failed to hear the 
prattle of her baby boy, and went to the entrance of 
the tabernacle to look after him. To her surprise 
he was not to be seen. Immediately she ran to the 
other tents to make inquiry and learn of his where- 
abouts. No one had noticed him and knew not 
what had become of him. Hurrying back to the 
tabernacle, she called to his father saying: “Dud- 
ley is lost! I fear he has fallen into the well.” 
This well had been made for the use of the camp, 
and was not curbed safely, and was also left un- 
covered most of the time. The first thought would 
naturally be that the child had been playing near 
the well and had fallen in. In a few moments this 
well was probed, but he was not there. “Dudley 
is lost!” was the news that passed from one to the 
other. “Dudley is lost,” they shouted from tent to 
tent and intense excitement prevailed throughout the 
encampment. 


60 


J' Yue Story istj isj 


As the little one had attracted so much attention 
and had become so popular, and had endeared him- 
self to everybody, this announcement caused no 
small stir. “Where is the child?” are the words 
heard from the lips of everyone. The young and 
the old are now becoming alarmed. 

It is late in the afternoon. Dudley must be 
found ere the sun goes down. And that great 
luminary which had brought cheer and guidance 
during the day, is about to pass down behind the lofty 
ranges ; the shadows of night are traveling slowly to- 
ward the scene of distress ; the wild beasts are bestir- 
ring themselves for the night’s prowl, and the song- 
sters are coming to their quiet homes in the pine 
branches. 

Someone remarked that he had seen a little girl 
gathering flowers on the south side of the camp 
ground. On hearing this, and supposing our dar- 
ling was taken for a little girl, on account of his flow- 
ing curls, the father requested that all the people 
should search in that direction. A line was formed 
by the men and boys, and arranged by the father, at 


61 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


a distance of about three yards apart, and instructed 
to walk slowly along through that section. 

The sun has gone and the darkness has come. 
The weirdness of the still night on these barren moun- 
tains creates an anguish of soul among the fond 
searchers that is indescribable. Silence prevails 
save for the foot-fall of those who are seeking the 
lost one, or the cracking of the brush and dead leaves 
made by a passing wolf, and the death-like stillness 
only adds to the anguish already becoming unbear- 
able. The excitement increases. Crowds are now 
coming in for the evening service. The large lumber 
wagons filled with men and women who are interested 
in the meetings, are heard in every direction as the 
country is open except a few farms that are fenced 
in from the wild commons, and roads are made 
across the open prairies. Hundreds are now pouring 
into the woods. “A child is lost!” is heard every- 
where. “Dudley Stamp is lost.” The people 
gather in groups and in a low tone of voice, talk over 
the exciting circumstance. 

The service is forgotten. A child is wandering 


62 










4 




1 


i 





AT rue Story r<i} ^ 


far out among the hills and rocks. No mother’s 
loving hand to guide his way, no fond father near to 
protect him from the ravages of wild beasts. Hun- 
gry, weary and homesick the sweet babe is trudging 
slowly along farther and farther out into the darkness 
of the dreadful night, with God’s heavens as his only 
canopy and the chilly air as his only covering. Oh 
the strain ! The anxiety ! But no time is to be lost. 
Nothing is to be left undone that can be done. 

The men and boys were all called together and 
organized into companies of six or eight, in order to 
prosecute a thorough search, and to patrol the coun- 
try to keep off the wild animals. A number of these 
companies were stationed about a mile from the 
camp, forming a complete circle around the encamp- 
ment. It was thought by this means, the coyotes 
and wolves, of which the mountains abound, would 
be kept far away from our baby ; as no one considered 
it possible for him to get this far away as he was so 
young. 

Two aged men, Mr. Vipond and Mr. Crouch, 
were left in the large tabernacle as they had requested. 


65 



Dudley Stampy Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


to pray that the God who never slumbers or sleeps 
might give direction to those who were sent out to 
recover the child, and that he might be saved from 
the jaws of the ferocious beasts in their desperate ef- 
forts to find food for their own cravings and for their 
young that had been left in the lair. The sun has 
gone down and darkness has enveloped the earth. 
However, as if to lighten our burdens and anguish 
but a trifle, the moon is breaking through and a soft 
light bespeaks the kindly notice of the great God, 
and his favor in this seems to inspire a ray of hope. 
This faint light makes the darkness less intense and 
some assistance is afforded in the search. 

The father and mother are frantic with grief. 
Their beautiful boy, their first-born, is out on the 
mountains wild and bare; mountains infested by 
ravenous beasts ready to devour. Shall he be torn 
and mangled? Shall we ever see him again? 
Loud cries, expressive of the deep sorrow, penetrate 
the silent midnight air, and the rocks mockingly echo 
back that cry: “Dudley, where are you?” O, 
if we could but hear that sweet voice in answer: 
“Here I am, mamma.” 


66 


tfii 


^ A True Story 


iOj cjj 


On and on, through the woods, over the rocks, 
up on the mountain peaks, by the water courses, 
deeper and deeper into the canons and gullies among 
the hills the loved ones dash. Falling over logs, 
stumbling over decayed brush, tearing their clothing, 
scratching their hands and faces on the overhanging 
branches, they laboriously make their way from point 
to point ; ever expecting to overtake their sweet baby 
boy. 

The searchers were thrown into confusion, and 
the father, who was directing the search, was per- 
plexed in his efforts to arrange the most successful 
plans to recover the child, because of the statement 
referred to above, that a little girl had been seen on 
the south side of the encampment. This child had 
resembled Dudley at a distance. About nine 
o’clock at night, the parents were surprised and left 
in despair as the searchers changed the course and 
moved over toward the north side of the camp. This 
will be explained in another chapter. 

Notwithstanding all the people withdrew to seek 
in the north part of the woods, the father and mother 
continued to hunt on the south side. 


67 


Dudley St amp y Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


Thus these heart-stricken parents were left alone. 
Many had said: “The child cannot be far away 
as he is so young, and cannot travel very far before 
becoming faint and exhausted. He will soon fall 
prostrate on the ground and be fast asleep,” was the 
general expression. On this account, the searchers 
were ordered by the father to remain in a circle about 
a mile from the center of the camp, and they were 
also instructed to build large fires to keep the wolves 
and coyotes from coming down within that line. 
This was done to prevent the child from being killed 
by the beasts while he slumbered. But strange as 
it seemed, while a man came into the camp for a drink 
of water, about one o’clock, and had only been away 
from his post a few moments, a pack of five coyotes 
came pell mell through the line, howling out in the 
still night. Their weird cries resembled the sad tones 
of a child in distress. Through the woods they 
dashed, out towards the opposite side from which 
they had come in, and soon were lost to view. This 
was an unfavorable omen to the friends. If the 
beasts were so bold as to rush through the line of the 


68 



\<ii ^ ^ ^ True Story 


^ 


sentinels, what would become of their darling boy 
should they find him ? 

Anyone who has been on the broad prairies or in 
the mountains alone, and heard a pack of coyotes 
crying as they roam the country after their prey, 
knows the mournful sound. The howling of two of 
these animals will cause you to imagine that there are 
a dozen. 

The night is passing, the moon has gone down, 
and it is dark. O, so dark! “Where is our boy?** 
was said many times by the father and mother with 
bitter tears. “O, that Dudley were in our arms even 
in death.** “How can we ever endure through life 
the thought of our precious baby boy having been 
torn to pieces by wild animals. How can we bear 
the thought that no tender hands could minister to his 
sufferings ; no mother to enfold him to her breast, and 
no loving father to rock him to sleep.’* 

“O, God, save our boy!** was the continual 
prayer that went up from those sorrowing ones. As 
stated above, the parents were hunting on the south 
side of the camp, while all the others were searching 


69 


Dudley Stamps Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


on the north side. The father and mother were 
alone. No one was near. The mother was dis- 
tracted ; she was distressed and bewildered now that 
the moon had gone down and darkness had settled 
upon the earth. The darkness rendered it extremely 
difficult to run through the woods and over the rocks. 
It was hard enough to walk or grope along. But 
this was too slow for those despairing parents. Rush- 
ing from point to point they try to cover all the terri- 
tory possible. 

But Dudley had passed beyond the circle of pro- 
tection that had been carefully planned for his safety. 
He is now trudging alone, weary and troubled, over 
the rough, rocky way. Onward he goes, farther out 
into the darkness. His cry is, “I want my mamma !** 
But that tender, pathetic cry is heard only by the 
merciful God of heaven. 

In this dark hour the mother faints away. She 
falls suddenly to the ground. The strain of this 
awful night has been too much for that delicate frame. 
The husband supports her head while she lies pros- 
trate upon the sward. Mental anguish increases. 


70 


^ ^ A True Story 


“Is reason being dethroned, has death come to that 
fond wife and mother?” A thousand thoughts rush 
through the mind. O how different it might have 
been had another course been pursued. Had we re- 
mained in the city, had we never brought our darling 
into the mountains, all would have been well. Such 
reflections, however, only consumed a short period of 
time, when, in the far distance, yea a mile away, a 
sweet sound was heard: “G-l-o-r-y to God!” rang 
slowly out through the hills, breaking the death-like 
silence. It was as heaven’s music, to the soul, that 
had come down to earth just in time to save the mother 
from death. Still there was a doubt in the mind as 
to the cause of the sacred exclamation, though we 
thought we knew what it meant. To assure us by 
added proof, there came from the same source, and 
with increased volume and power, the same sweet 
sound that was the richest music we had ever heard : 
“G-l-o-r-y to God!” and directly following this shout 
of praise, came the good old-fashioned amen ! 

Had an angel swept through the woods, shouting 
the news of Dudley’s rescue, greater joy could not 


71 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountai\ 


have come to our heart than was brought by the sound 
of assurance from the voice of one of the searchers in 
the distance. A flash of light had come out of the 
darkness. No one in that dark hour would even 
think or feel like lifting his voice in hallowed praise 
with that cheerful tone without some corresponding 
cause. The spell of despair was broken as if by a 
visit from the angelic host, and the volted skys echoed 
the same life-giving words: “Glory to God!” 
The great God in heaven had heard the prayers of 
his people. Our son who was dead, is alive again. 
It was enough. All doubts had flown as if on the 
wings of the morning. We spoke to the fainting 
mother saying: “Darling, Dudley is found and is 
alive 1 ” In a second, and as by supernatural strength, 
that broken-hearted mother sprang to her feet and 
without support, bounded over the rough rocks and 
hills towards the camp, crying and sobbing: “Praise 
God, he’s alive I Dudley is alive !” 

A young man had brought with him to the camp, 
a bugle which was used to call the campers to service. 
At the time the people were organized into companies 


72 






A True Story 




and stationed in the circle a mile from the center of 
the grounds, it was arranged that, when any trace of 
the child’s whereabouts was found, this bugle was 
to be blown. While the parents were running to- 
ward the camp, with overjoyed hearts, the bugle 
played in slow mournful notes. The mother stopped 
instantly, and cried out: “Oh, he’s dead, he’s 
dead!’’ “Why do you say that?’’ asked the father. 
“O listen to that sad music,’’ replied she. But the 
next moment the notes of the instrument were changed 
to a rapid march. Again the race for the camp was 
resumed. Those quick and gladsome strains had 
reassured their hearts. 

On reaching the camp ground, and not finding 
the child there as they had expected, they said: 
“Where is he? Where is he?’’ “We don’t know,’’ 
was the reply. “We heard someone call: ‘He’s 
found,’ and we hear a wagon coming in from the dis- 
tance, and that is all we know.’’ On hearing this the 
father broke away from the mother to meet the 
wagon. The thought that the child was being 
brought in from the wilds a corpse, caused the mother 


73 


Dudley Stampy Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


to rush after the father, when a friend came out of her 
tent and laid her hand on her shoulder. This un- 
timely hindrance was too much for the overburdened 
spirit of the mother, and caused her to fall in a dead 
faint. 










4 . 








CHAPTER V. 


A NIGHT’S TRAMP 


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CHAPTER V. 


A night’s tramp. 


OTWITHSTANDING the precaution 
of the father in stationing the different 
companies of men close together in the 
circle a distance of a mile from the camp, 
and though the vigilance of the watchers 
was steadily kept up through the entire night our be- 
loved child had passed beyond the line. 

In a previous chapter we left Dudley standing 
alone in the woods where he had been forsaken by 
the bad boy who had betrayed his confidence in allur- 
ing him for a pretense of gathering the gum from the 
trees, but where his real design was to be carried out, 
in getting him away from his mother, that he might 
wander in distress before reaching his home in the 
tented grove. 

The child having no suspicion of the lad’s decep- 



79 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


tion, stood there behind those big pines waiting for 
his return. Not seeing anything of him, and feeling 
that he had been away from his mamma long enough, 
he started, as he supposed, back to the camp. He 
had taken no landmarks. The trees all looked alike 
to him. The tents could not be seen, and the little 
fellow soon began to move away in an opposite direc- 
tion whence he had come. His rapid steps took 
him far beyond the power of his friends to help 
him. Gladly would they have led him back to his 
mamma; gladly would they have guided those little 
feet into the path that would have taken him toward 
the tabernacle. 

This country is not like the eastern states, where 
the houses are close together, and where all the roads 
are fenced and walled in, but is sparsely settled. 
The farm houses are sometimes miles apart. Much 
of the land lies open without fences. Cattle owned 
by large dealers roam at will. A part of this land 
is covered with trees and a part is natural prairie, or 
hills and mountains which have no timber and are 
barren. Deep gullies are to be seen here and there. 


80 


^ ^ yi True Story 




and not a few rough gorges and canons break up the 
land into a state that bears a wildness and dreariness 
that is foreboding in appearance. Coyotes and 
wolves frequently skulk along in these gorges hunting 
some stray calf or sheep that they may satisfy their 
hunger. 

Through this wild and rugged country Dudley 
is to spend the dreadful night as he vainly tries to 
find his way back to father and mother. The dark 
shadows of the rocky crags and the tall, native sen- 
tinels that are constantly thrown across his lonely, 
difficult and untrodden path, render this journey in 
the night more weird than ever. Childish imagina- 
tions of grewsome objects fill the tender mind. 

“What is that coming there? Is it a bear? 
What is that strange noise he now hears? Is it the 
cry of a child ? Is the dreadful silence to be broken 
by the comforting sound of a human voice?” Ah, 
well were it the cry of a human 1 But that strange 
sound is not the friendly cry of child or man, but 
the howling of a wild beast in quest of its prey. 

Two of these huge beasts, the coyotes of this 
Cl 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


western country, are now creeping slowly along the 
bed of a creek. High banks hide the ferocious ani- 
mals from our brave little boy. He hears them, he 
knows they are near. How near he cannot tell. 
They are coming closer. Dudley walks softly on- 
ward. He is helpless, but not afraid. Strange 
feelings creep over him and his heart beats and throbs 
with apprehension. He is sure that danger is near. 
TTiat strange sound comes from the gully there. 
Hush ! What is that ugly thing climbing up out of 
the gully? 

Through the darkness our little man can see 
the beast crawling up the bank. See, it is now 
on the level ground. It has scented what it sup- 
poses will be an easy catch and a savory morsel. 
It is now where it gets a fair view of the child. And 
Dudley now gets a square view of his wild antagonist. 
It is to conquer or to die. As the beast approaches, 
followed by its mate, Dudley rushes at him with the 
determination of a gladiator^; and ere the animal 
can gather its wits, it is struck in the face with the 

*See Frontispiece. 


82 




AT rue Story cJj 


straw hat that our brave boy carries in his hand. 
The coyote has raised himself up upon his hind legs 
and about to bring his great weight upon his prey 
with his front paws, crushing him to the earth; but 
having received the sudden blow from the child, he is 
frustrated and baffled, and missing his object his 
claws simply tear rents in Dudley’s kilt dress to 
the bottom as his heavy paws come down to the 
ground. 

Was the animal injured by the blow of the child? 
Not that. There is a mysterious force about the 
human that the naturalist speaks of, that carries a 
conquering power with it that wild beasts frequently 
have no control over and from which they flee as 
before some gigantic foe. What a scene is that 
among the rocks and trees in that dark night, when 
that brave baby boy dashes at the enraged wolf, 
realizing that he must defeat his enemy or be killed. 
No general ever faced his foe with greater valor, or 
walked away from the scene of a victorious battle, 
with more worthy praise and dazzling glory, than 
Dudley Stamp in that single combat with his formid- 


83 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


able foe, the prairie wolf. In that little body dwelt 
the elements of courage, valor and determination. 
In him was no fear. Everything in his path must be 
met with that fortitude that shown so brightly and 
magnificently in his character; nothing was to daunt 
him on that lonely journey in quest of his father and 
mother. He must return to them, and carry back 
tokens of his obedience to the principles of courage 
and integrity which he has, though so young, re- 
ceived from the precepts taught him by those loving 
parents. He must show them that he was brave; 
that he never faltered or gave way either in danger 
or through exhaustion. 

Was Dudley alone in that combat? Did he 
fight that terrible battle unaided, when he, as he told 
us on his return, saying in his child-like language: 
“They hurted my poor sore stomach, and tore my 
dress, mamma?** Yes, he was alone as far as hu- 
man assistance or company was concerned. But has 
the great God left that babe to wander alone, to beat 
off the animals by his own strength? Ah, snowy 
wings might have been heard hovering over that 


84 



“Come here, little girl.” “I’m not a girl, I’m a boy!” 








courageous child could the spiritual ear have been 
opened. The Almighty had heard the agonizing 
cry of that imploring mother, and the jaws of the 
wolves were closed. He had commissioned one of 
his angels to accompany the beautiful little wanderer 
through that beclouded path, and the savage beasts, 
had they been possessed of human thought, might 
have wondered why they were powerless in combat 
with a child. Leaving only a few rents in his dress, 
made by their sharp claws, the maddened animals 
skulked away and were lost in the woods. 

Weary and excited, nervous and lonely, his little 
feet begin once more to move along the uncertain 
way. Now and then a house is seen in the distance 
by the aid of the stars. The occupants are either in 
slumber or waiting at the camp for traces of the lost 
child. As the searchers are assisted and comforted 
in a measure by the light of the moon in the early 
part of the night, so Dudley had the assistance of 
the same soft light for a short time on his journey. 
A few miles of this tramp in the night were illumined 
sufficiently to render the walking less difficult. But 


87 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


now that friendly guide passes. Dudley is envel- 
oped in darkness. Who can tell the many times 
he fell to the ground on that long journey? Who 
knows how many times he stumbled over logs and 
rocks that he could not see? How tired are those 
little innocent feet. How hopeless he feels. But 
he pushes on. Down into yon canon, over and 
around that hill, and now across a stretch of level 
land he feels his way, constantly buffeted by brush 
and fallen trees. 

That strange, yelping sound is heard again in the 
distance. That shrill cry, sometimes loud and pene- 
trating and then low and faint, is the only noise he 
hears, except the cracking and breaking of the dead 
twigs and dry grass as a prairie wolf slinks along 
not far from him. The old clock on the shelf of 
the quiet farm house strikes twelve. “All is well” 
there. The doors are stoutly bolted against the 
marauding wolf or the bear. But a child is on the 
barren mountains! One o’clock is heard. The 
slumbering ones know not of the manly little fellow 
who is out there trudging through the darkness. The 


88 






A True Story 


clock strikes again. Two o’clock is passed. Still 
Dudley Stamp is on his tramp in solitude. “Three 
in the morning,’* the watchers say, as they look at 
their timepieces. “Three o’clock! Oh, God, save 
the child. Sustain the mother!’’ 






89 








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CHAPTER VI. 


THE RESCUE 


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CHAPTER VI. 


THE RESCUE. 


UDLEY is now six miles from the camp 
ground. More than six miles have been 
traversed by the child. Yea, many 
more. He is now standing in front of 
a farm house. Half a mile farther 
away, and up on the top of a high hill, there is a 
large piece of woods, that resembles the grove in 
which the camp meeting is held. The child sees 
this timber, though dimly, and wonders whether it 
is the camp or not. 

Before leaving the house, he lifts his plaintive 
voice, which, in its tremor indicates his great weari- 
ness, and he cries out: “I want my mamma! I 
want my mamma!” The stillness of the hour is 
broken by that piteous cry. In that house are three 
young people, two brothers and a sister. The father 



93 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


and mother are dead. The two brothers sleep up 
stairs, and the sister occupies a room on the first floor. 
The windows are open, it being a fair night. Our 
little wanderer, helpless and disconsolate, still stands 
out there in front of that strange house, calling: “I 
want my mamma!” The call finally arouses the 
sleeping girl. She listens: “What is that?” she 
says in smothered tones. “The cry of a cougar?” 
Nervous fear seizes the young woman, and she 
covers her face to shut out the sound of distress. 

Not being able to arouse the inmates of the home, 
Dudley finds his way to the barn that stands not far 
away. Four horses are lazily standing there slum- 
bering away the hours of the night. The child loves 
horses, and takes note of all those that stand in that 
stable and counts them. Looking once more at the 
grove of trees whose tall tops mark, indistinctly, the 
sky beyond, he determines to go there and learn if the 
camp and mamma and papa are there. Instead of 
going back in front of the farm house, the way he 
had gone toward the barn, he took another course 
around to the rear of the house. There being no 


94 


^ ^ ^ True Story 


fences he could do this without difficulty. But on 
his way, some distance from the house, there was the 
bed of an old cellar that had formerly been used to 
store away potatoes as the farmers in this section 
depend largely upon this product; the land and cli- 
mate being adapted to it. These cellars are some- 
times very large. They measure from twenty-five 
to sixty feet long, twenty feet wide and ten feet deep. 
They are usually covered with heavy plank, and then 
a layer of earth is placed over the plank; the 
whole covering supported by large posts and cross 
timbers. The cellar mentioned had been aban- 
doned as the timbers had decayed and the roof had 
fallen in. The walls were slanting in places but 
steep and abrupt in others. 

It is dark now, and our precious babe sees no 
danger ahead, especially as his eyes are fixed upon 
the woods that he thinks may be the temporary home 
he is vainly trying to find. What is that thud we 
hear at the bottom of the deep cellar? Oh! it is the 
fall of the child. He has walked off into the pit, 
and is now suffering from the bruises caused from the 


95 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains ;; 


sudden contact with the timbers lying on the floor 
of that cellar. Poor child! Isn’t it enough that 
he has to endure the sufferings of hunger, of thirst, 
and of the consciousness of being lost and surrounded 
by the wild beasts? 

But Dudley is too brave to lie there. He must 
find a way to get out that he may continue his search 
after mamma and papa. On regaining his feet he 
begins to feel around the walls in order to find some 
place where the earth had caved in making it possi- 
ble for him to climb out. Such a place is discovered, 
and he scrambles up, and is soon going toward the 
woods which are half a mile off. It is a hard part of 
the long tiresome journey. Nobody will ever know 
how many miles that brave child tramped that event- 
ful night. He did not travel in a straight course, 
but wandered around, first going in one direction and 
then in another. Many a time, we may suppose, he 
retraced his steps. Many a time he perhaps had 
started, unwittingly, back in the direction of the camp 
ground; but had, as often, been turned from his 
course by some great rock or gully that shut off his 


96 


^ r<ij ^ ^ True Story 


way. Yes, it is a hard section of the journey. The 
trees are on a hill. That hill must be climbed. He 
must summon all his remaining strength for another 
dash. He cannot hold out much longer. His 
strength is well-nigh gone. Onward he climbs, but 
O, so slowly. He stubs his toes against the stones 
and roots of trees, he drags his feet that are now sore 
and bruised; falling down, he recovers his position, 
drawing himself up by the bushes and logs. That 
clump of trees must be reached, for he thinks mamma 
is there. Strange as it may seem, that while Dud- 
ley’s heart is full of hope as he thinks he will soon 
find his parents, he is traveling slowly towards a den 
of grey wolves. The den, where they have their 
young, is just on the other side of that piece of woods, 
located among the great rocks there. However, he 
pushes on. He finally reaches the grove, only to be 
disappointed once more. Mamma is not in the grove. 
“Where is she?*’ he wonders. That one who would 
have given her life to save him, was many miles away, 
struggling against death also, in her efforts to find this 
sweet babe. Will the good God of heaven forsake 
us now? Will he answer prayer? 


97 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


Dudley is now standing alone in the woods. He 
is a long ways from the farm house down yonder in 
the valley. But the young girl in that home has not 
closed her eyes. That strange cry: “I want my 
mamma!” still rings in her ears. Listen! She hears 
the same plaintive voice. It is farther away now, 
and the sounds are only faintly heard as they come 
down through the clear night air from the hill above. 
It is dark, and all is quiet. Now the cry is heard 
again. It is not as strong and loud as before, for 
Dudley is getting weaker every hour. “I want my 
mamma!” come the soft tones through her open win- 
dow. “That sounds like a child’s voice,” the young 
lady says. “Can it be possible that a child is out in 
the barren mountains this dark night?” 

Throughout this neighborhood the people had 
indulged in the sport of telling stories about ghosts 
and spirits, which had taken hold of the young minds 
with some concern and dread. This young girl is 
now apprehensive of some evil. She cannot under- 
stand it. She thinks of the conversation about the 
ghosts of olden times, and imagines that something of 


98 


^ ^ ^ ^ True Story iSj 


that kind may have come into that new country. 
However, the call keeps coming. While it grows 
fainter all the time she still gets the pleading words 
of the little one for his mother. She is at last con- 
vinced that no spirit is talking, but that a child is in 
trouble in the woods. Dressing herself she goes 
quietly up-stairs and calls to her brothers, saying: 
“Boys, get up. There is a child out in the woods 
on the hill. I hear its cry.” This news arouses the 
brothers and they are soon ready to go out and look 
for the strange call. But the night is dark and they 
hesitate. They all hear the pleading cry of the baby 
boy but are afraid to go towards the woods. A short 
council is held to decide what is best to do. About 
a mile from their house is the home of a Mr. William 
Jones. Mr. Jones having several sons, they con- 
clude the safest plan is to go down to that home and 
tell them of what they have heard, and get them to 
accompany them to the woods in order to learn the 
true facts as to the cause of the cry that they have 
supposed was the cry of a child. In a short time 
these young people are standing at the door of the 


99 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


farmer. Their call awakens the sleeping inmates, 
and Mr. Jones, coming to the door, asks what is 
wanted. The young people say: “Mr. Jones, we 
have heard for an hour past, a little child calling for 
its mother. The sound comes from the hill. It 
must be in the woods. Sister heard the same cry in 
the night, when it seemed to her that a little one was 
saying: ‘I want my mamma!* At that time it ap- 
peared to her to be close to the house. Then for a 
while it was not heard; but an hour later she could 
hear it again, but away off. It must be a child who 
is lost, Mr. Jones.’’ Thus the young spokesman 
related the circumstance and made known the appre- 
hensions of the party. 

For months past there had been some misunder- 
standing among the people around these parts, and a 
feud had broken out among the different families. It 
had caused a great deal of trouble and there were 
hard feelings. On hearing what the youth said about 
a lost child, he remarked : “It is not the voice of a 
child, but the voice of the neighbors trying to decoy 
us out for trouble.’’ It was an exciting time. When 


100 




A True Story ^ 


i 


those western farmers get stirred they are stirred. 
Difficulties are not settled in a half-hearted way. 
Matters are usually adjusted with considerable force 
and there is no backing down. The whole family 
gets up, though it is some time before the break of 
day. Just at that hour when men who are liable to 
be about with a desire to make trouble. The grown 
sons come to the door and look out upon the group 
standing outside. 

“Boys, get your guns,** says the father, “and 
we*ll see about this matter.** The rifles are taken 
from the hooks, and examined to see if they are in 
working order. In a few moments Mr. Jones, in 
company with his sons, and the young party who had 
come to get his assistance, were on their way, with 
guns in hand, toward the woods whence the sound 
had come. In half an hour the company came near 
enough to see the child standing among the tall trees. 
His beautiful golden curls, now disheveled, hung in 
disorder about his shoulders. Having on his ging- 
ham kilt dress, they first thought it was a little girl. 
Mr. Jones, while some distance away, called out. 


101 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


“Come here, little girl.” This was too much for our 
noble boy. It was an offense to his boyish nature. 
Had he not been teased enough by the boys at the 
camp? Shall he have to endure the same taunting 
from these men away out in the mountains, and after 
being left in the woods by the bad boy who had led 
all the others in twitting him with the name of girl ? 
This was more than Dudley was willing to take. He 
considered this was carrying things too far, and look- 
ing disdainfully down upon that group of men and 
boys, who were all strangers to him, he shouted out 
in resentful tones, “I’m not a girl! I’m a boy!” 
Mr. Jones saw that he had made a mistake and that 
he had unwittingly offended the brave little wan- 
derer. Though he was a stern man, he kindly 
changed the tone of his voice, and doubtless on ac- 
count of the reproachful answer he had received from 
the stout-hearted baby boy who insisted on fair treat- 
ment, and with subdued accents, said : “Come here, 
my boy.” 

No sooner did our brave but gentle son recognize 
the winning voice of the man who had injured his 


102 


cjj AT rue Story iSj r^j 


feelings, than he forgave him and started towards 
him with weary and tottering steps. The company 
were standing quite a distance away on the side of 
the hill. On his way to them, the precious one 
stumbled over the end of a fallen tree and went 
tumbling over the cruel rocks. He lay there but 
for a moment when he was on his feet again. He 
had hurt himself from the fall though he kept his 
course towards the strangers. Coming near he saw 
the guns they had on their shoulders and wondered 
what it all meant. Where did they come from and 
what were they going to do with him, were questions 
that crowded upon him. But they were men. They 
would at least help him to fight the coyotes should they 
attack him again. Up to this time he had fought his 
terrible battles alone; he had won his victories in 
single combat ; he had driven off the beasts and only 
sustained a few rents in his dress from their angry 
claws. But another struggle might be greater. Not 
far ahead of him, as he was going through the woods, 
was the den of grey wolves mentioned before. 

Mr. Jones, the leader of the party with guns and 


103 



Dudley Stamps Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


clubs, said: “Little man, what is your name}’* 
“My name is Dudley,*’ answered the child, “What 
is your papa’s name?’’ the man asked again. “My 
papa’s name is Brother Stamp,’’ using the expression 
he had heard the ministers of the camp meeting use 
when addressing his father familiarly. “Well, Dud- 
ley, where do you live?’’ said Mr. Jones. “I live 
in a tabernacle,’’ was the reply of our little fellow. 
Dudley knew that he and his parents lived in the 
great city of Denver, but he wanted them to know 
that he had, during that long, dreadful night, wan- 
dered from that tabernacle. True, the child had 
made his home there for a while and in that sense 
was correct. Mr. Jones had not attended the serv- 
ices, but had heard of a young minister who had 
been preaching at the camp meeting who had re- 
cently come from Philadelphia, and that his name 
was Stamp. This threw some light on the situation 
and the group decided that the child had wandered 
away from the camp and was lost. Their hearts 
were touched with sympathy. The little boy that 
stood before them with his brave countenance had 


104 



rca ^ ^ Xrue Story 


an attraction for them, and that drew from them 
profound admiration. That beautiful ruddy face, 
those big dark eyes, that expression of conquering 
bravery and valor, caused these men to exclaim: 
“What a manly little fellow!” “What a beautiful 
baby boy.” ■ 

Then the kindly gentleman said, as he reached 
down with his strong arms to lift him up: “Come, 
little boy, let me carry you to my home.” “No, sir, 
you can’t carry me. I’ll walk,” answered Dudley. 
No pleading could persuade him to be carried. He 
had begun that journey on foot, and he was going 
to finish it on foot. He was determined not to be 
outdone by anything. He must conquer every ob- 
stacle. Finding their little friend objected to being 
carried, two of these men slipped their hands kindly 
under his arms and thus kept his weary feet nearly 
off the ground, and yet allowed him to think that he 
was walking by his own exertion. 

While on the way to Mr. Jones’ home, the com- 
pany had to pass the house where Dudley had stood, 
crying for his mother. When he saw it, and the old 


105 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


cellar at the back, he said to them, “I fell into that 
cellar and bleeded my nose.** Passing around to 
the other side of the house which brought them in 
view of the stable, he said again; “I went into that 
bam, and counted the horses. There are four in 
there.** Going along the dim road, Mr. Jones told 
Dudley that his wife would get him some bread and 
milk as he must be hungry. But the sturdy little 
traveler replied; “No, sir. I’m not going to eat any 
bread and milk at your house, my mamma is going 
to have plum pudding for supper.** 

Mrs. Jones and the smaller children were now 
waiting for the return of the party. No one could 
tell what might take place on those hills, especially 
during the unsettled condition of affairs in the com- 
munity. She sees them now as they draw near, 
and they are bringing a little child with them. How 
did this child get away up there in the woods, and 
what saved him from the ravages of the wild animals, 
was the thought that came to her mind. “Here, 
mother, see this beautiful boy we found on the moun- 
tain. Isn*t he a sweet babe?** said the man of the 


106 


cjj AT rue Story c^j i$j 


house. “O, you precious baby, come in,” answered 
this kind woman as she reached out her motherly 
arms to take him.” But as Mr. Jones took his hand 
from under Dudley’s arm, the little fellow fell as if 
dead, to the floor. Strength had gone. Nature 
had given way. He lay prostrate. Sympathetic 
faces bent over him. Strong, willing arms reached 
down and took him up and pressed him tenderly to 
the heart. But those were not the arms of his father. 
A strange man was now holding him, and trying to 
brush away the clouds of disappointment. Pres- 
ently the lady brought a bowl of rich milk and some 
bread, and said: “Here, my child, is some nice 
bread and milk, have some and it will do you good; 
you must be hungry.” However, Dudley’s mind 
was centered upon another scene. He was then 
looking back to that camp ground where he had left 
his mamma. He remembered that his mother had 
promised that they should have a nice supper to- 
gether, and have plum pudding. And as the woman 
entreated him to eat, he said: “No, I’m going to 
have my supper with my mamma.” 


107 





1 





Dudley Stamp, Lost tn the Rocky Mountains 


Mr. Jones has told the boys to get the team ready 
that they may take the child to the camp. Now the 
big horses and the lumber wagon are at the gate. As 
Dudley is unable to walk, he is carried to the wagon 
in the arms of Mr. Jones. They all want to go with 
the little one and witness the great joy of the broken- 
hearted parents and sorrowing searchers, and soon 
the vehicle is full. Dudley sits with Mr. Jones in the 
front seat. As was stated in another chapter, he 
loved horses and as he sat where he could watch the 
fine team of the farmer who was taking him to his 
mamma, and spoke of each of the horses and of how 
beautiful they were, he then told of his own horse 
whose name was Dick. While thus talking about 
his horse, the one he loved so well, he fell into a 
quiet sleep and forgot the terrible scenes and dangers 
of that dark night. His battles with wild beasts, his 
struggles with the rocky way, his suffering from hun- 
ger and thirst and his longing desire to find his father 
and mother, were all in the past. 

He is, at last, on his way home. Loving arms 
are soon to enfold him, and he is to nestle safely in 
the lap of his precious mamma. 


no 



^ ^ ^ True Story 


We stated in a previous chapter that the shout of 
“Glory to God,” followed by the sweet sound of 
“Amen!” were heard in the distance. How this 
came about is as follows : As the wagon drew near 
to the circle of men who were stationed in companies, 
it was soon known that the lost one was found. 
Among the party stationed at that particular point, 
was the young man with the bugle. In a moment the 
strains that told of the great mercy of God in saving 
the child began to float through the air. Immediate- 
ly the sound was caught up by the people. 

With bugle and voice, they all gave praises to 
Him whose ear is ever open to the cry of His chil- 
dren. But rising above the happy tumult one joyous 
note is heard as if on the wings of the morning, “Glory 
to God!” The whole camp is electrified and the 
woods are made to resound with shoutings: “He’s 
found, he’s found!” 


Ill 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


“There were ninety and nine that safely lay 
In the shelter of the fold. 

But one was out on the hills away. 

Far off from the gates of gold — 

Away on the mountains wild and bare. 

Away from the tender Shepherd’s care. 

‘Lord Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine : 

Are they not enough for Thee?’ 

But the Shepherd made answer : ‘ ’Tis of mine 

Has wandered away from me : 

And although the road be rough and steep 
I go to the desert to find my sheep.’ 

But none of the ransomed ever knew 
How deep were the waters crossed ; 

Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed 
through 

Ere He found His sheep that was lost. 

Out in the desert He heard its cry — 

Sick and helpless, and ready to die. 


112 


^ ^ ^ A True Story ^ ^ 


‘Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way 
That mark out the mountain’s track?’ 

‘They were shed for one who had gone astray 
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.’ 
‘Lord whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?’ 
‘They are pierced to-night, by many a thorn.’ 

But all through the mountains, thunder-riven. 
And up from the rocky steep, 

TTiere rose a cry to the gate of heaven, 

‘Rejoice! I have found my sheep!’ 

And the angels echoed around the throne, 
‘Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!’ ” 


While the mother was lying unconscious, as 
stated before, the wagon arrived, bringing the beloved 
baby boy from his wanderings in the mountains, and 
while he was sound asleep, he was lifted tenderly 
from the arms of the gentleman who was holding 
him, and laid in the lap of his grief-stricken mother. 


113 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


The rejoicing of the people who were uncon- 
trollable in their exclamations and shouts of gladness 
and thanksgiving, aroused the mother who looked 
once more into the sweet face of her lost baby. 
That sweet face was now blackened from the grime 
of the burnt logs over which he had stumbled. Not 
a word was said; not a sound was uttered. The 
gratitude of those parents was so profound on account 
of the restoration of their little son, that the joyful 
silence seemed to be too sacred to be disturbed. 
Some time thus passed, with that fond mother gazing 
down upon her beautiful boy who had so bravely 
fought his way through that awful night with con- 
quering tread. 

At that supreme moment, Dudley, as if by an 
instinctive feeling of his mother’s protection, opened 
his eyes which met the gaze of his mamma. With a 
look of injured feelings, he said: “Mamma, have 
you had your supper?’’ He had not forgotten in 
his lonely tramp, that the plum pudding was to have 
been served for supper. “No, darling, how could 
mamma eat when you were not here?’’ Then the 


114 


“Mamma, have you had your supper?” 





^ ^ in ^ True Story ^ ^ ^ 


tears that broke the death-like spell which seemed 
as a dream, and that came near taking the life of the 
mother, gushed forth ; and with sobs of gratitude and 
contentment, she rocked her treasure back and forth, 
praising her Heavenly Father for His unspeakable 
goodness. 

Sometimes a flood of tears can alone bring relief 
to the troubled heart. Sometimes the breaking up 
of the great deep of the soul can alone save the rea- 
son from being dethroned. This was the case with 
Dudley’s mother. The long, dark hours of fear 
and anguish, of regret and doubt, combined with 
the excessive fatigue and exhaustion, had well nigh 
completed their work in bringing about a fatal col- 
lapse. But the angels came from afar, just in time 
to bring the fainting heart back to life again and to 
avert a double calamity. 

Yes, Dudley is to have his supper, but that sup- 
per is to be eaten at the dawn of the day. The day 
following the dark night. The plum pudding was 
to be the chief attraction of the meal, but other hands 
besides those of the mother, were to assist in the 


117 


Dudley Stampy Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


preparation of that repast. Every lady in that en- 
campment insisted on the pleasure of contributing to 
the wants of that sweet baby boy. Delicacies from 
every tent-home were brought, and that table was 
daintily arranged for the joyful occasion, and our 
brave little conqueror was the guest of honor. 

It was toward the middle of the day before the 
regular services of the camp could be resumed. In- 
tense excitement had prevailed and even the thought 
of public worship had been taken from every mind; 
the only consideration was the recovery of the lost 
child. The people gathered in throngs for the even- 
ing service. Unusual interest was manifested as the 
worshippers took seats under the large canvas. From 
the peculiar circumstances, Dudley’s father was 
asked to deliver the address that night. Though 
weary from the toils of the night’s search, and worn 
from anxiety, he regarded the opportunity too great 
to be passed by, and accepted the invitation. 

It was requested that Dudley might sit in the 
pulpit, where the multitude could see him. TTiis 
was appreciated by the people. The majority of 


18 


c;3 cjj iSa ^ True Story 


Cjj iQj 


that throng had been out on the barren mountains 
all the night, trying to find that beautiful boy. They 
had all breathed a prayer to the Divine One that he 
might be saved. They considered they had an in- 
terest in him, and in no uncommon manner. He 
held a warm, loving place in every heart. Even the 
strong-hearted felt the same tender feeling of grati- 
tude that he was now sitting where they could look 
into the face that bore the expression of courage and 
determination. They had never seen such a child. 
He was a general, a conqueror. 

The text was chosen from the parable of the lost 
son : “For this my son was dead, and is alive again ; 
he was lost and is found. And they began to be 
merry.” As the father, with deep emotion followed 
the child through his wanderings, footsore and hun- 
gry, disappointed and lonely, the people were bathed 
in tears of sadness mingled with tears of joy. Before 
them sat the courageous little fellow who had fought 
off the coyotes, and who had braved the dangers of 
the dark night. They now saw him safe and sound, 
and out of the danger of the wild beasts. 


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PART II 


CHAPTER 1. 

BRIGHT SCHOOL DAYS 



PART II. 


CHAPTER I. 


BRIGHT SCHOOL DAYS. 


MONG the bright years of Dudley’s 
short but eventful life, were the few 
months he was privileged to attend school. 
Although he was less than six years, 
which was the age for new beginners, it 
was thought best to send him, provided the school 
board would give their consent. On solicitation the 
request was granted. 

The first day came. It was a day of new de- 
light for Dudley. He was entering upon the duties 
of a more strenuous life. Play was to be mixed and 
associated with work. However, it was all novel 
and enjoyable to him. The large building, the 
many strange faces of the scholars, the kind teacher 
and the spacious playgrounds contributed to his 
young mind a more extended view of existence. 



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Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


On reaching his home after his first day’s work, 
and after his fresh experiences had developed, what 
he thought, were wonderful revelations, he strode into 
the house with that feeling natural to all school boys 
of his age, and began to relate to his mother some of 
the things his teacher had taught him out of the 
primer. Regarding her boy fondly she said in re- 
ply : “Dudley, that is just what they taught mamma 
when she went to school.’* “Why, mamma, I never 
knew you went to school.’’ The days passed by and 
every day brought different experiences to the little 
student. One day he came home an hour before 
the time to close the school. Being questioned as 
to the reason, he said, “Well, the teacher sent me 
home because I wasn’t good.’’ “Tell us, Dudley, 
what you were doing that was not good for a little 
boy to do,’’ said his mother. “I was dropping my 
pencil on the floor, and the teacher said: ‘Dudley 
Stamp, you may go home,’ ’’ was his statement of the 
case. Supposing his little son had been in some 
childish mischief, and that it might need a gentle 
reproof, his father requested him to go to his room 


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until the time his school closed. This punishment 
we have always regretted as it was afterwards shown 
that our little man had done nothing deserving of 
punishment whatever. A few days after this cir- 
cumstance, Dudley’s mother met the teacher, and 
referred to the matter, saying : “lam sorry that our 
little son gave you trouble by misbehaving in school.’’ 
“Dudley misbehaving in school,’’ answered the 
teacher, “why Dudley is the best boy I have in the 
school.’’ “We had thought he had broken the rules 
as he said he had been dropping his pencil on the 
floor, and you said he might go home.’’ “O, if 
that’s all,’’ replied the teacher, “it is not worth men- 
tioning. I saw the little fellow was tired, and did 
not know what to do with himself, and I thought he 
might as well go a little while before the others, as I 
sometimes let the little ones out early because they 
have nothing to do at that hour, and are usually 
very weary.’’ 

When Dudley was five years old, his father was 
holding a district conference. The little son was in 
the meeting when he saw the possibilities and import- 


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;; Dudley Stampy Lost in the Rocky Mountains 




ance of the Christian life. He was very young, it is 
true, for the exercise of thought on divine subjects. 
But children sometimes have correct ideas of duty, 
and frequently grasp the deeper truths of the Bible, 
and of Christ the Saviour. These truths are re- 
vealed to them by the great Spirit of God. At the 
close of the address given by his father, Dudley 
knelt before the Lord who had so mercifully de- 
livered him from the wild beasts of the mountains, 
and who had given him strength for the combat dur- 
ing the awful night of distress. In acknowledgment 
of these tender mercies, and feeling his own need of 
that conversion of heart that alone fits the soul for 
the better world, he there, with tears and prayers, 
gave himself to his Saviour, and received the clear 
witness of his forgiveness and acceptance with Him. 
He left the church before the service was concluded, 
being anxious now to tell his mother of his happiness, 
and ran across the commons and into the house. On 
entering he said: “O, mamma, I have been con- 
verted.” “That is just right,” answered the mother 
in her gratitude on hearing the glad news. But 


126 



^ ^ ^ True Story isu cS3 


thinking she had better test the little fellow’s experi- 
ence, she asked: “Dudley, how do you know you 
are converted?’’ “Because I feel good all in here,’’ 
as he placed his hand over his heart, he replied. 
There was no room for doubt there. He had en- 
tered upon that life that has attracted the attention of 
the great of all ages. 



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CHAPTER II. 


I DUDLEY’S NEW HOME S 

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CHAPTER II. 


DUDLEY’S NEW HOME. 


HE father having been elected to district 
work, removed from Denver to Pueblo, 
in order to establish missions in that city 
and throughout the southern part of the 
state of Colorado. The location of the 
family was left optional, as the new territory over 
which he had charge was very large. But thinking 
a central point for headquarters would make it pos- 
sible to give closer attention to the details of the work, 
and as no sacrifice was to be considered too great 
either by the father or the mother in order to render 
their chosen cause successful, their home was estab- 
lished there, though that city is not as pleasant as 
many others. 

A comfortable house was found, and in due time 
the family was nicely settled in the new home. They 



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Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


were among strangers again which is one of the 
unpleasant features of the life of a minister. The 
little son, like other children, soon adapted himself 
to his environment and established himself in charge 
of the yard where he enjoyed playing with his sister. 
The yard was an excellent playground and the two 
little ones were very happy. Their happiness 
brought sunshine to the other members of the family. 

Some time before their removal to this city, a fine 
baby brother had come to Dudley’s home. He was 
a handsome child and Dudley loved him dearly. 
He would, after a while, have a brother to play with 
him, he thought. But even now the little one took 
much of his time as he enjoyed amusing him. The 
baby was given the name of Paul. 

For the first few days after their arrival in Pu- 
eblo, Dudley seemed to be homesick or in trouble 
about something. He was not as happy as before. 
This caused some remarks by the parents. It was 
thought to be the result of having left his former play- 
mates and familiar surroundings, and that he would 
soon regain his joyous spirit. One night, after the 


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^ True Story 


iQj t$!J CjJ 


little man had gone to his room, the father was pass- 
ing through the hall to his study, when he saw, as 
he looked into his room, that he was restless. There 
was evidently something that troubled that young 
mind besides homesickness. Going to his bedside, 
his father said : “Dudley, my boy, what is the mat- 
ter? Are you sick?” Dudley threw his arms 
around his father’s neck and sobbed out: “No, 
papa. I’m not sick, but will you forgive me, papa?” 
“Certainly, my child, but what is it that you have 
done that I should forgive,” answered the father. 
“Papa, before we came here, I was playing with 
other boys on the commons, and I threw my ball 
through Mr. Ross* window, and I never told you. 
Will you pay Mr. Ross, and forgive me, papa?” 
On being assured that the accident would be settled, 
and that he was freely forgiven, he fell into a quiet 
slumber, and the next day he was as cheerful as ever. 
How noble is the conscience that is tender and brave. 
How worthy the spirit of integrity. 

This was the time of the presidential campaign. 
Dudley came to his father one day and said: “Papa, 


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Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


I want you to buy me a Fisk cap.” “Why, Dudley, 
do you want a Fisk cap?” the father replied. “Be- 
cause I’m a Fisk man; I’m a prohibitionist,” the 
young politician said. The father smiled, and 
promised the cap. Dudley was proud of the cap 
that bore on its brim, the emblem of his chosen party. 
Every now and then he would swing that cap around 
his head and shout, “I’m a Fisk man!” The day of 
election drew near. At the time Mr. Cleveland was 
the candidate on the Democratic ticket, and he was 
running with increasing strength and popularity. 
The morning of election day, Dudley took his posi- 
tion on the top of the big gatepost, and as the people 
passed he would cry out: “Hurrah for Fisk!” 
General Fisk was the candidate for the prohibition 
party. But as the day wore slowly away, Dudley’s 
candidate continued to remain in the minority. From 
the beginning Mr. Cleveland was in the lead, and 
added more votes to the standard of democracy every 
hour. Dudley stood his ground all right, and kept 
up excellent courage amidst the shouts of his little 
companions on the street, while they kept up their 


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AT rue Story iOj 


“Hurrah for Cleveland! Hurrah for Cleveland!” 
However, it is pretty hard for even a grown man to 
stand loyal to a cause that grows more unpopular as 
the time passes, and while one is surrounded by the 
great majority on the successful or winning side. As 
night began to come on, and Dudley could hear noth- 
ing but the shouts of “Hurrah for Cleveland!” in 
every direction, he climbed down from his position on 
the fence, and came into the house and took off that 
Fisk cap, and swung it around his head, crying at 
the top of his voice: “Hurrah for Cleveland!” 
When he saw the disappointed and surprised look on 
his mother’s face, he said: “I’m a Cleveland man.” 



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CHAPTER III. 


DUDLEY’S ILLNESS. 


HE circumstances connected with the 
dangers and distress of that dreadful 
night spent on the mountains had pro- 
duced an unconscious idolizing of the 
child by the parents, and they held him 
as if in the embrace of an eternal grasp. 

Could it be possible after such experiences, such 
marvelous deliverances, that they should have the 
darling snatched from their loving arms and borne 
away where his prattle would be heard no more, and 
where his childish pranks would not gladden the 
heart? Deep mysteries shroud the pathway some- 
times, and divine providence is difficult to understand. 
Cherished hopes are frequently shattered and our 
plans are driven to the winds. Centered in that boy 
were not only the aspirations of the parents, but the 



139 


Dudley Stamp, Lost tn the Rocky Mountains 


hopes and expectations of many others who knew 
him. To fail in reaching the consummation of these 
expectations would cause untold sorrow and disap- 
pointment. 

Carelessness sometimes becomes a crime. Wil- 
ful and gross neglect of the safety of others by in- 
dividuals is punishable by law. But where the en- 
forcement of law is lax, the people are in danger. 
In a house near by the children had been sick with 
the scarlet fever. They had not been very ill, how- 
ever, and were allowed to play out in the yard next 
to where Dudley and his sister were at play. The 
parents knew nothing about the contagious disease 
being so close to their home and that their little ones 
were exposed to the danger. 

One day while the father was several hundred 
miles away, down on the plains, looking after a mis- 
sion field, Maudella, the sister, was taken sick. The 
physician was called, and the disease was pronounced 
scarlet fever. The gentleman who went for the 
doctor had told him of Dudley, and related to him 
some of the scenes of his young life, which gave the 


140 



“Good-bye papa, good-bye mamma, good-bye Maudie.” 




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iSj at rue Story 


physician special interest in him. After administer- 
ing to the little girl, he said: “You have a boy, 
haven’t you?’’ “Yes, sir, he is playing in the yard,’’ 
the mother replied. “Call him in please,’’ the doctor 
requested. Dudley was called and stood before 
him. “Fine boy you have there. Madam, we must 
do something for him. We must try and keep him 
from taking the fever,’’ he said. 

The sister grew worse, and the message bearing 
the news was on its way to the father. He was 
fifty miles from a railway station, and the country was 
new and sparsely settled in that section. The days 
passed slowly by, but the father did not return. No 
message was received in reply. Another was sent. 
“Come home, the children have the scarlet fever,’’ 
read the messages. Another and another, until five 
in all were dispatched. Still no word from the 
father. Who can describe those anxious days? 
The neighbors were afraid to come to the relief of 
that mother who was watching night and day. The 
disease had assumed a malignant form and anyone 
ran great risk in coming into the house. Sadly the 
hours wore away. 


143 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


From the beginning Dudley had a presentiment 
that he would become a victim. He had a horror 
for the contagion, that was unusual for one so young ; 
and his mother pondered his sayings and actions rela- 
tive to the matter with no little concern. What if 
Dudley should take the scarlet fever and die, thought 
she. “Mamma, Fm not going to have the scarlet 
fever, am I mamma?” he said one day. “I hope not 
my darling,” his mother replied. Again, a little 
later, he came running in from his play, and said, 
“Mamma, I wont have the scarlet fever, will I mam- 
ma?” “I trust not Dudley, the doctor is giving you 
medicine and he thinks you will not take it.” Dur- 
ing the days that followed, this sad question was 
asked many times. There was something about it 
that troubled him and he could not throw it off. 

At the close of a beautiful day, Dudley gathered 
all his playthings together and placed them in a row 
along the yard fence. Coming into the house he 
looked up into his mother’s face, and said: “Mam- 
ma, Fm not going to bed to-night; Fm going to sit up 
with you.” “No, my little man, you must go to bed 


144 



rS:i ^ ^ True Story 


iSs <5 isu 


and get your rest,” was the reply. Fearing the time 
when her precious boy would not be able to rest 
would come only too soon, she insisted that he should 
go to bed. But the little fellow persisted, and she 
finally permitted him to have his way. After sitting 
up some time he threw himself across the couch and 
was soon lost in slumber. On perceiving this his 
mother gently removed his shoes. The same night 
at nine o’clock, the little girl grew worse. The symp- 
toms were such as to cause the mother to think she 
was dying. However, at midnight the crisis was 
passed and she slept peacefully. At four o’clock in 
the morning Dudley woke with a start and cried out : 
“Mamma, I want a drink!” In a moment a glass of 
water was brought which he eagerly drank, and then 
lay back on the pillow and fell asleep again. Filling 
the glass and placing it within his reach, the mother 
resumed her vigilance beside the sick little daughter. 
In a few moments the pleading voice was heard 
again : “Mamma, I want a drink of water.” “Hush, 
Dudley, Maudie is sleeping now,” were the subdued 
words of the mother. Every symptom of the disease 


145 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


was to be seen, and it was evident that Dudley was 
in the grasp of the scarlet fever. Although this might 
have been expected, it was a great shock and surprise 
to the mother. 

The morning light broke upon a new patient, and 
when the doctor came he found his little friend, once 
so light-hearted, now suffering with a burning fever. 
Added to this overwhelming affliction, baby Paul 
was stricken with the same disease. All the children 
are now sick. Dudley calls for his father, but that 
father is many miles away. Gladly would he have 
shared the care of those little sufferers. Finally the 
messages are received. “Come home, the children 
have the scarlet fever,” each message reads. Fifty 
miles must be made over the prairies by team, then 
the more rapid way of travel by rail. Monday night 
comes, Dudley and Paul are very sick. Paul is 
struggling with death, though the symptoms do not 
indicate that the end is so near. The father enters 
the sad home, where the afflicted ones are so anxious- 
ly waiting his coming. Drawing near to the bed- 
side where Dudley lay, the little fellow threw his 


146 


rQi True Story ^ ^ ^ 


arms around the father’s neck and whispered: “Pa- 
pa, I’ve got the scarlet fever.’’ The voice was full 
of pathos. It had lost the tone of victorious accent 
that had always characterized his utterances. He 
seemed to realize that he had met an enemy which 
his brave efforts could not vanquish. Ah, it was 
what the Good Book calls “the last enemy.’’ He 
had met the wolves, and his valor had routed them. 
But his Heavenly Father was now flashing the light 
of heaven across a more beautiful path than the un- 
trodden, rugged way of the dark night, and he was 
soon to pass beyond the borders of danger and suffer- 
ing. 

The next night the angels bore the gentle spirit 
of Paul away. About this time the last struggle of 
Dudley began. On looking across to the couch that 
held the beautiful but lifeless body of his baby 
brother, whom he loved so tenderly^ and with whom 
he had spent so many happy hours, he said, with 
deep sorrow: “Paulie, O Paulie; I didn t want 
Paulie to die. I wish Paulie hadn’t died.’’ Then 
he turned from the scene and seemed to be lost in 


147 


Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


thought. TTiought that reached into the realms 
above. 

The next day the white hearse drawn by two 
beautiful white horses came to the door of that home 
to bear the little brother to the cemetery. Dudley 
had seen those white horses in the street a few days 
before he took sick, and called his mother’s attention 
to their beauty. Now they are taking his beloved 
brother and playmate away, and are soon to come 
again to carry him to the same resting place. 

While the parents were gone with the little one, 
Dudley’s doctor, accompanied by a consulting physi- 
cian, sat by his side. On returning from the burying 
ground they saw that their darling boy would, in a 
short time, follow his little brother. The physicians 
gave no hope of his recovery, but the parents struggled 
on, thinking they might, in some way, avert the ca- 
lamity. As the hours passed, the world and all that 
he had enjoyed in it, gradually lost its charms ; when 
he turned to his mother and said: “Mamma, read 
to me out of the Bible.’’ “What shall I read, dar- 
ling,’’ the mother asked of her idolized child. “Read 


148 


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iOj a True Story i$j iOj 


of that beautiful place.’* Then that fond mother 
turned to those comforting words of Revelation, and 
with tears read on: “And I saw a new Heaven 
and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first 
earth were passed away ; and there was no more sea. 
And I, John, saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, com- 
ing down from God out of heaven, prepared as a 
bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a 
great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the taber- 
nacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with 
them, and they shall be his people, and God himself 
shall be with them, and be their God. And God 
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there 
shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former 
things are passed away.** 

As these verses, descriptive of the City of Light, 
were read, Dudley seemed to hang upon the divine 
promises with implicit faith and confidence. After 
a few moments of meditation, he said: “Sing for 
me. Sing At the Cross.** Then they began the 
strains : 


149 



Dudley Stamp, Lost in the Rocky Mountains 


“Alas! and did my Savior bleed? 
And did my Sovereign die? 
Would He devote that sacred head 
For such a worm as I?” 


Reaching the chorus, the dying child joined the 
parents in the assuring words: 


“At the Cross, at the Cross, 

Where I first saw the light. 

And the burden of my heart rolled away. 
It was there by faith I received my sight 
And now I am happy all the day.” 


The clouds were now breaking, and the light of 
a better world was streaming down to illumine the 
portals of the grave. His face was radiant with the 
dazzling prospects of that home where there is no 
pain, and where all is light, and looking for the last 


150 



^ ^ A True Story 


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time into the faces of his loved ones, he said : “Good- 
bye papa, good-bye mamma, good-bye Maudie,” 
and his pure spirit swept up beyond the stars to await 
our coming. 


THE END. 



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